A Place to Belong
by Axellia
Summary: After Oliver reads something he shouldn't, Chloe decides it's time to get a new job - one that gets her out of the tower. However, there's something more to Chloe's new boss, but will Oliver see the danger while he's trying to bring Chloe what she wants most - before it's too late?
1. Green Arrow

_Greetings! So, I've been struggling to write _anything_ for the best part of six months now, but after watching the episode last week (Warrior), suddenly I felt an itching in my fingers to set them free on my laptop as my muses attacked me in full force. It's my first time in this fandom, and although I've been shipping Chloe and Oliver for the longest time I'm really not sure that I can do them justice - we'll see. _

_Oh, and there's also the fact that I'm way out of my comfort zone not using OCs… I'm trying to stick to the comic book world so all the major characters will have appeared in the comics at one point._

_Disclaimer: The only thing that belongs to me are the mistakes!_

* * *

**A Place to Belong**

**©Axellia, February 2010**

**Chapter One.**

The snow was falling gently in soft swirls to the ground, covering Metropolis with a sheet of innocence. And yet, as Chloe Sullivan meandered along the sidewalk, it appeared that the frozen stuff was just putting a temporary patch over the darkness in the city.

She sighed, her heart heavy, glancing up into the falling snow. After hearing too many people tell her that she needed to get out more, she'd decided that the only way to get them to quit going on and on about it was to do as they said. Only, apparently, going to see a bunch of people in costumes didn't constitute as getting out, especially when, according to Lois, they weren't exactly living in reality themselves.

Not that Lois was an expert, but when Chloe stepped back and watched her and Clark together, a little part that she was trying desperately to hide away, kept trying to rear its ugly head. There was a reason she had been keeping herself within feet of her computers – they couldn't hurt her.

Chloe sighed again, hitching her bag back up onto her shoulder, and bowed her head to the snow, stepping up her pace. She found herself in the deserted clock tower. Not ready to settle down in her flat, unable to face Lois, Chloe had often found herself seeking refuge in the deserted base recently. She waited for the elevator to crawl down, rubbing her chilled hands together. Finally, it arrived and she stepped in, slumping against the wall.

The real world was a cold place. Physically and emotionally. And she was tired of pretending that everything was normal. Tired of lying to the world. She arrived at the top floor, and stepped out. The watchtower was just as cold. Chloe shrugged her bag off her shoulder and allowed it to fall to the floor with a soft _thunk_ as she shivered. Pulling her coat even tighter around herself, she headed over to the computer and quickly accessed the heating schematics for the building.

It wasn't a technical fault, she realized as she did some investigating. It was a payment fault. Someone had cancelled the payments and cut off the gas supply to the penthouse. Muttering about the ineptitude of the gas companies and deciding to resolve the issue (with a few choice words) the following morning, she hacked into the site and informed the company that it had been paid, whilst reconfirming her payments. Once done, she headed into the kitchen. Kitchen was a loose term. It was a few cupboards, a cooker that didn't work, and most importantly, a coffee pot. She busied herself making a strong cup and hurried back to her computer.

By the time she had sat back down, she could feel the heating kicking in already. She shrugged her jacket off, leaving her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, and pulled her keyboard to her, opening a new document.

For the best part of four hours, she sat there, her fingers flying over the keyboard, as she wrote the best story of her life: the story of Smallville and its alien superhero, Clark Kent. How he had saved her and others on countless occasions, how he'd had help from others like him – Green Arrow, Black Canary, Impulse, Aquaman and Cyborg, all leading double lives to protect the world. How she was proud of them and what they had done, and how she tried to help them.

How things had suddenly been travelling at a nice pace – marriage of all things – but then another alien had appeared, and despite her best intentions she had lost everything in a day. The man she had been trying to save: gone. Her husband: gone. Clark: busy trying to save the world, one metropolis at a time. Her friends: unable to look her in the eye had gone their separate ways. The only one she had left was Oliver, and although he had stuck around and nearly drunk himself in a downward spiral had come back to be the hero she knew he could be, but how he and Clark only kept her around out of pity – and yet how she was extremely grateful because it gave her some meaning in her life.

How she knew all of this, and how she was sitting on the story of a life time, and how she kept this quiet, protecting their secret, hiding the truth, despite the fact that a story like this would make her the most famous reporter on the planet. And how, more than anything, that made her feel alone. How, she thought she'd had a chance at finding something more, but her crush on the latest superhero was a misplaced crush on a kid a third her age. And that had made her feel even more alone.

Finally, feeling weary, Chloe Sullivan sat back, exhausted. The best story of her life poured into a few megabytes of data. And then she hit the close box. The mouse cursor hovered over the "yes" option to the "do you want to save the changes to document1"? box. Chloe sighed. And then hit "no", the document disappearing from the screen.

---

Oliver was reaching for his bow when he heard the elevator grind into action. He settled the bow back down and was about to make his way out of the specially designed cupboard when he heard Chloe muttering under her breath. Figuring it might be better to wait for her to calm down before approaching her, he held back, waiting until she finally stormed across the kitchen to the kettle.

He smiled to himself. Although vast quantities of the liquid gold Chloe often referred to the coffee as (and indeed, she did seem to have it as thick and black as oil some days), could sometimes make her twitchy, most of the time it calmed and focused her. So he wasn't surprised to see her settle down in front of her various monitors with a sigh.

Only, the sigh sounded sad. He took a step towards her, expecting to stop her from trying to track down a Kryptonian or something like that. Only she didn't. She opened a Word document and started typing. If he had known that what she was writing was something akin to a diary, he probably wouldn't have stayed. But it took a couple of pages before he realized it was autobiographical, and by then he was hooked. So for God knows how long, he stood there, completely transfixed.

By the time she had finished, he was looking at Chloe in a whole new light. She had sacrificed and given so much, and she kept on doing it, even after he had helped tear her apart with losing Jimmy (and even though she had, even in private, been gracious enough to not blame him). And that was playing with his gut like he didn't know what.

Finally, long after his legs had gone to sleep, she sat back and gave a satisfied sigh. She scrolled up and down the lengthy document before heading for the X in the corner of the screen. As she did, Oliver's eyes flickered to the line at the top of the page. "No," he muttered.

Chloe, still oblivious to the other person in the room, closed the document.

"We don't keep you around out of pity, you know."

Chloe leapt up, the keyboard crashing to the ground as she whirled around, finding herself face to face with Oliver. "Jesus Christ, Oliver!" she yelled. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver gave her a sad smile and shrugged. "I wanted some quiet and I knew this was a place I could get it.

Chloe returned his smile with a nervous one of her own and leant over to pick up the keyboard. As soon as it was on the table, she swiped up her empty coffee mug and hurried over to the kettle. "You want one?" she asked, aware that Oliver had followed her over.

Oliver shook his head as he watched her busy herself with making her coffee, refusing to turn and meet his eyes. "Or _I_ don't keep you around out of pity."

Chloe looked over at him then, her expression reminiscent to a rabbit caught in headlights. "What?" she asked.

"I don't keep you around out of pity," he repeated. "You seem to have this crazy idea that I keep you in my life out of pity," he explained.

Chloe dropped her head onto her chest as her knuckles clutching at the side turned white. "Oh," she muttered, biting her lip as she closed her eyes. "How much of that did you read?"

"I tuned in about the time golden boy Clark Kent ran off to Metropolis," he told her. "I must say, I didn't think he had it in him," he added as an afterthought.

Chloe leant forward as she rubbed at her temples. "You weren't supposed to read that," she muttered. "No one was."

"The fact you deleted it kinda gave me that impression," Oliver agreed softly as he walked over, leaning back against the worktop as he glanced down at her. "But why?"

Chloe looked up at him in amazement. "Do you really need to ask that?"

Oliver smiled. "I mean, why did you write it?"

"How long had you been standing there?" she asked again, amazed that she hadn't heard anything.

"I may as well have read it all, Clo," he admitted, although somehow without looking and sounding the slightest bit guilty.

"No one was supposed to read that," she repeated.

Oliver nodded, smiling. "You said that already."

Chloe stared at Oliver. Feeling her cheeks heating up, she quickly looked away. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized.

"You don't have to apologize," Oliver told her. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He leant forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And more importantly, you have nothing to feel worthless about. You're an important part of my team, even if the numbers have dropped a little, and I'm proud to have you as my sidekick."

Chloe glanced at the hand on her shoulder, her eyes following the outstretched arm, his naked muscles glinting in the dim light, to the sincere look in his brown eyes. "Really?" she asked, the statement making her feel better than she had in a while.

Oliver nodded. "Yeah. And Boy Wonder had better watch out or I'll be trying to make you my own sidekick – there will be no sharing."

Chloe blushed, ducking her head. "Thanks," she mumbled, suddenly feeling very shy.

"I mean it, Chloe," he told her, releasing her shoulder. "And for the record it's Stephen, or Alex's loss."

Chloe's mouth again dropped open.

"I read it all," he said as his smile turned to a smirk. "Right down to the description about my chiseled features and movie star looks."

Chloe cringed, praying that the counter would suddenly develop teeth and swallow her whole. And then her defensive mode switched on as her temper flared. "You had no right to read that," she snapped at him.

"Chloe," Oliver sighed at her. "It was there for the world to see across six of your forty inch monitors. It was a little hard to miss."

Chloe glared up at him. "And are you telling me that had I left my diary out you would have read that?"

Oliver thought about it and was about to tell her that of course he wouldn't, when he caught her glare. He sighed. "I probably would have read it," he admitted. "But in my defense, I didn't realize what it was you were writing when I started reading."

"Well," Chloe spluttered as she grabbed her coat and thrust her arms into the sleeves. "You should have stopped reading when you realized what it was."

"Ah, come on Chloe," Oliver pleaded with her as he followed her to the lift. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever, Oliver," she muttered, stepping into the lift. "I'm going home."

---

By the time she had made it back to her flat, she had not only calmed down, but she had also come to another conclusion. It was time to get out of the watchtower. She was horrified that Oliver had read everything. There was almost nothing left to hide.

Almost.

She had nearly written about what had happened _after _Alex had gone home. About the thing that had happened right there in the watchtower. How, for a moment, she thought Oliver was trying to tell her that he liked her and it was alright for her to like him too. How, despite the fact she frequently stood close to him, in that instant, for reasons she couldn't explain, her stomach was doing back flips. And how she had walked away because, if she had somehow managed to interrupt the situation correctly, she didn't want to get hurt, and if she hadn't, she didn't want to look like a fool.

No, she was exceeding grateful that thought pattern had been omitted from the story.

Which was why she knew the healthy option was to get out and to get a new job. It wasn't like Oliver and Clark had being a hero as their full time job – both had other careers, so why couldn't she? At least then, maybe people would stop telling her to get out more.

Despite the fact it was the small hours of the morning, she sat and poured over the Planet's job section, found a couple of jobs she could handle, and emailed off her resumé. She had just settle back down on to her couch with a fresh mug of coffee and pulled her laptop over to continue with mission, when there was a knock at the door. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly two am.

She pushed the laptop to the other side of the couch and headed over to the door, peering out through the peephole. "Oliver?" she cried, pulling the door open.

He stood there, looking immaculate in his cream polo jumper, half hidden under his leather jacket, and his designer jeans, giving her a sheepish smile.

"What's the matter?" she asked him, her mind automatically wishing she had stayed in the watchtower so that she could jump on her supercomputer, ready to solve whatever problem he was about to throw at her.

"Why do you automatically assume something's wrong?" Oliver asked her with a frown.

"Well why else would you be knocking on my door at this time in the morning?" she asked him, confused.

A brief look of uncertainty flashed across Oliver's face, and then it was replaced with his cocky grin so quickly, it was impossible to say if it had been there at all. "Dinner."

"Dinner?" Chloe repeated. "At two in the morning? What time zone are you currently inhabiting?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm taking you out for dinner. Think of it as an apology," he offered.

"I don't think that-" Chloe started, but she was cut off.

"Chloe, will you shut up and let me take you out on a date?"

Chloe's mouth fell open.

"I'll take that as a yes," Oliver told her, leading her out of the flat and closing the door behind her.

"Oliver, I'm not dressed for a date," she told him, staring down at her outfit. She'd gotten changed into a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a vest top. "I don't even have my jacket."

Oliver pulled his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. "There," he nodded. "And for the record, you look good in anything."

"Oh, hardly," she scoffed as he led her outside into the snow. "Oliver, I'm still in my slippers," she told him, pulling his jacket around her. And where's going to be serving food at this time?"

"You need to learn to take a compliment," he informed her, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her over to his car. Managing to keep hold her with one hand, he opened the door and settled her into the passenger seat. "And you also need to trust me."

Chloe stared up at him, the snow dancing around him, and for a moment, where a street light shone just behind him, he looked like an angel. "I do trust you," she told him.

Oliver smiled at her and shut the door.

Chloe watched him hurry around the front. "I just don't understand why you want to take me out on a date," she muttered under her breath before he got in the car next to her.

---

"Oliver, how many surprises do you have left?" Chloe asked, laughing.

"I'm full of surprises, Chloe," he told her, holding his hands over her eyes as he led her through the watchtower.

To Chloe's surprise, the 'date' had been a picnic on the floor of the watchtower. He'd ordered Chinese which had arrived moments after they had stepped in the building and he had brought her upstairs to the second surprise of the evening. Two couches in the corner of the main room. _"'Cause every once in a while, you need to step away from that computer screen," _he had told her.

The third surprise Chloe had discovered when she had taken their dirty containers into the kitchen. A proper coffee maker, complete with sever bags of coffee machines Oliver had clearly obtained from various places across the world. _"Because I know you hate to be away from the computer too long when you're in the middle of something,"_ he had explained to her, practically contridicting his previous reason for the first gift.

All in all, despite the fact Oliver had called it a date, it had felt far from one. It seemed more like two friends hanging out.

That was until Oliver dropped his hands.

"Surprise," he told her.

Chloe's mouth dropped open. In front of her was an enormous bed with beautiful plum colored bed sheets. She whirled around, not realizing how close behind her Oliver had been standing, and stared up at him.

"Now, before you go jumping to assumptions, I bought the bed for you. If it was mine, you know the sheets would be green," he grinned.

"Oliver," Chloe started.

Oliver quickly cut in. "Seriously. I just wanted you to have somewhere you could lie down when you're busy working. And I realize it will probably never get used because somehow you can go a week without sleep," he told her, exaggerating. "But I figure you're more likely to get a nap when you know you don't have to go home." He stopped and looked down at her. She was staring up at him with her head cocked. "What?"

Chloe was about to ask him how he managed to pull it all off, in a matter of hours, when all the stores would be closed, but she figured that when you had as much money as Oliver Queen did, it didn't really matter.

What really stopped her from asking the question wasn't because she knew the answer. It was the look of vulnerability he was showing her without even realizing he was doing it.

She reached her hand up to cup his cheek, gently rubbing her thumb over his five o'clock shadow. "Thank you," she told him, sincerely. She dropped her hand but didn't step back.

Oliver stared back at her. And the next thing he knew, he was leaning over, kissing her. Sensing it was more than a little one sided, he pulled away. "Sorry," he muttered, stepping back as he looked at the confused expression on Chloe's face.

Chloe blinked, took a second to process what had happened, and then all but leapt at him.

---

Oliver awoke the following morning with a smile on his face in the middle of the now very disheveled bed, half covered with the new sheets. The smile quickly turned into a frown as he discovered he was alone in the bed. Still frowned, he slipped out of the bed, pulled his boxers on and made his way through the base. "Chloe?" he called.

He sat down on the couch, running his hand through his hair. For the first time, he finally knew how all the girls he'd bedded felt when they discovered that _he_ wasn't there in the morning. She'd gone. And it bugged him more than he was willing to admit. Not because _he _wanted to be the one that left.

But because he wanted them both to still be in that bed when they awoke.

* * *

_TBC..._


	2. Hawkman

**Chapter 2**

Chloe stepped out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around her. She'd stayed in it until the water had run cold, and as a result, the bathroom had turned into a sauna. She walked over to the mirror and wiped the condensation away to reveal her green eyes sparkling back at her and a stupid grin on her face.

Even though she shouldn't have, she had really enjoyed the previous night. She clearly had a type – the hero type. The problem was, the hero type didn't go for the geek sidekick type. They went for women like… well, Lois. Not that she could blame Oliver, or Clark, for that matter. It was just one of those facts of life.

Her problem was that last night had sealed the deal. She was not going to use the "L" word, because that would mean it was out there and couldn't be taken back, but she had fallen for him, hook, line and sinker. If she was going to be honest, she'd fallen for him a very long time ago. Who wouldn't? And for the longest time, she figured that had been her own kind of defense mechanism – fall for the guy you know you can never have, and then you'll never get hurt.

Only it turned out that she could have him. That was the problem with Oliver Queen. He could have anyone he wanted, and did, and now she was just another notch on his bedpost. She should have stuck with her crush on Clark. At least then experience told her he wouldn't reciprocate.

She groaned and reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. No, last night had been a moment of weakness – she'd just needed to remember that feeling, that someone - _anyone_ - wanted her.

The last time she had felt that was with Jimmy. Although she had since realized that whilst she had loved Jimmy, she hadn't been _in love_ with Jimmy. That wasn't to say that if she could turn back time and do it all again she wouldn't. Because she would – in a heartbeat.

She sighed, and her eyes fell to her collar bone. The toothbrush dropped out of her mouth as her mouth fell open. There was a hickey! All she wanted to do was put the previous night behind her and Oliver had gone and given her a… a tramp stamp! Chloe glared at the offending mark in the mirror. "Great," she grumbled. "He marked me."

She stormed into her bedroom and began rifling through her closet for an outfit that would cover it. The reason she had left without a word that morning was because her phone had bleeped at her, telling her she had a new email. She'd quickly read it to discover a reply from one of the places she'd applied to the previous evening.

Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she'd slipped out and hurried home. The position of Information Analyst at Vertigo Labs had been high on her hopes of having a reply, and whilst she hadn't expected a response so quickly, she was heading over there – even if it meant she'd had no sleep and a hickey! Still growling to herself, she got dressed and, grabbing a cup of extra strong coffee, dashed out of the door.

---

Chloe had done her homework. The main site of Vertigo Labs was located in star City, however there were three other labs across the country – one being in the heart of downtown Metropolis. It was a building that was much wider than it was tall, taking up an entire block with its gold glass windows.

She went in and spoke to the receptionist. Minutes later, she was being led through a series of passages to a small room that contained only a computer, albeit a very good one, and asked to complete a series of tasks. She completed them relatively quickly – well within her allotted time – and sat back. She glanced at her watch. Clearly they weren't expecting someone who knew what they were doing to apply.

She shrugged to herself and vacated the room, looking for the man who had shown her in to let him know she had done. But there didn't seem to be anything in sight… other than a coffee machine. She hurried over and attempted to make herself a cup. Only the thing didn't want to work. "Well that figures," she muttered to herself.

"I don't think that has been working for a long time," a voice behind her announced, making her jump.

Chloe whirled around. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. "I finished my test and I went to get someone, but I spotted this…" she trailed off when she realized the man was staring intently at her and shifted uncomfortably.

"Forgive me," he returned at her, smiling. "My lip reading is good, but I struggle with babbling."

Chloe flushed, finally noticing the hearing aid, just peeking out under his dirty-blonde hair. "I am so sorry," she apologized again, talking very loudly and very slowly.

"I'm deaf, not stupid," he told her.

Chloe could feel her face burning. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just panicked," she explained.

"That's alright," he told her. "So how about you let me take you for some real coffee – you at least owe me that?"

Chloe glanced around. "I can't – I'm in the middle of an interview."

The man grinned at her. "Trust me – you don't want to work here. The boss is a jerk. I mean, look – they don't even have a working coffee machine."

She glanced over at the incriminating machine and realized he had a point. "Alright," she conceded, allowing him to lead her back out of the building and across the street to a coffee shop.

"So," Chloe began once they were settle down by the window with their drinks. "If the boss is a jerk, why do you work there?"

The man shrugged at her. "I know the boss."

"I thought you said the boss was a jerk?"

"I did," he agreed. "But I know him, hence it's alright for me to say it."

Chloe shrugged and sat back in the chair, staring at him. "So what do you do?"

"A little bit of everything," he told her. "Although these days it mainly meetings and paperwork."

Chloe nodded. If he knew the boss, it figured that he'd be some kind of manager or something.

"What about you?" he asked her.

"Well, I was applying for the Information Analyst, but as that one was a flop, I guess you could say very little," she told him.

He grinned. "You don't look like a computer geek."

Chloe glared at him. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"Do," he agreed. "It was meant as one."

"I'm Chloe," she announced suddenly.

"Werner," he returned. "You know computers then?"

Chloe nodded, grinning, before launching into a lengthy description of the computers she had built in the Watchtower – omitting the reasons as to why and how she built them.

---

Oliver stared back at his reflection, not really seeing himself as he put the gel in his hair. What the hell had gone wrong? He'd taken Chloe out to somewhere where she wouldn't feel like she needed to put on airs, somewhere that she would feel safe. He'd lavished her with gifts that she wouldn't really think were gifts – if he'd have given her a diamond, she wouldn't have accepted it. He'd restrained himself with that first kiss, and, had she not leapt on him, he certainly would have been a gentleman and waited for a later date before hoping to get lucky. When he had taken her to bed, he'd lavished her in a way he thought she'd know that she meant more to him than a one night stand.

So what the hell had gone wrong?

He refocused himself on his hair, just in time to save himself from going overboard on the gel. "Maybe Hawkman was right," he muttered to himself. "Maybe I'm just going to have to point out the obvious. Chloe," he announced loudly to the empty room. "I like you."

He gathered up his keys and phone and headed for the lift. "Chloe, I don't want you to be a one-night stand."

"Chloe, be my girlfriend." He let out a sigh as the door slid close. "God, I sound lame."

He made his way back to his place to pick up his bike. Despite the cold, he wanted to be in the fresh air, and there was still a lingering smell of what he could only call Chloe in his car and it was too distracting. It also meant that a trip to Chloe's place in Smallville wouldn't take any time at all as he wound in and out of traffic.

It was a wasted trip. She wasn't there. Feeling immensely frustrated, he headed back into the city. It was by luck that, sat at a red light, he just happened to see Chloe sat in a coffee shop, laughing with a guy that looked strangely familiar. Ignoring the beeping car horns, he swung the bike around and parked up, headed straight for the shop. "Chloe?"

Chloe looked up. "Oliver? What are you doing here?"

"I was just passing – in the area," he said, dragging a chair noisily over to the table and joining them.

"Take a seat," Chloe grumbled at him, shooting him a look.

"Oliver Queen?" Werner blurted out, clearly shocked.

Oliver frowned, staring at him. "I know you, don't I?"

Werner recomposed himself and offered his hand. "Werner Vertigo," he introduced himself.

Chloe gaped at him. "As in Vertigo of Vertigo Labs? The jerk?"

Werner, who was obviously in a battle with Oliver to see who could squeeze each other's hand as hard as possible, looked over and nodded. "The one and only."

"Well I feel like a Grade A idiot," she muttered to herself, as she got to her feet and stormed out of the café.

"Chloe, wait up," Oliver's voice called after her.

Chloe ignored him, power marching down the street.

"Chloe!" Oliver exclaimed as he jogged to her side and grabbed her arm.

Chloe whirled on him, jerking her arm free. "What was that about?" she demanded.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You and Werner? There was enough testosterone leaking into the atmosphere to turn _me_ into a guy," she accused.

Oliver pulled a face and smirked. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me ever confusing you with a guy."

Chloe glared at him, shoved him out of the way and continued to storm off.

"Chloe?" Oliver cried, chasing after her again. "Look," he said, rounding on her. "That wasn't supposed to come out like that."

"It was one night, Oliver," she snapped at him. "I know you're familiar with that concept," she added, mentally wincing at herself for being unnecessarily nasty. "And just because we slept together, it doesn't mean that you have any right to barge in on a date."

"That was a date?" he asked, wondering what had just happened.

"No," Chloe exclaimed in exasperation. "Apparently that was a job interview."

Oliver blinked. "Huh?"

"I went for an interview. For a job," she offered at Oliver's blank expression.

"What about Watch-" he glanced around at the passing foot traffic and lowered his voice. "Watchtower?"

Chloe sighed. "Look, the others are gone and they're not coming back."

"What about me?" he asked her, hoping his voice didn't sound as hurt as he felt.

Chloe reached up and put her hand on his shoulder. "You don't need me fulltime," she explained. "And I'm not quitting. I just figured that if you can run an empire, I can get a job."

"I can pay you more," he offered.

"No," Chloe told him, shaking her head. "I don't need more money. I just realized that everyone was right. I need to stop clinging onto the past, because I can't change it, and get out."

"And you felt you had to go work at Vertigo Labs?" he asked her. "You could have asked me. I could have created one especially for you."

Chloe shook her head. "No, I know that. I just think it would be better if I had a separate life to all this superhero stuff."

Oliver frowned, crossing his arms. "Normally I would be quite thrilled at the thought of you taking yourself away from the danger, but Werner Vertigo? The guy is a jerk."

"So he tells me," Chloe agreed wryly. "But I don't think you have anything to worry about – I clearly didn't get the job."

"That's not a bad thing, you know," Oliver informed her. "Vertigo Labs have been trying to outdo and buy out Queen Industries for years."

"Scared of a little competition?"

"Clo, is this about last night?" Oliver asked her. "Because I won't let things get awkward between us if that's what you're worried about?"

Chloe looked up at him and gave him a sad smile. "No, it's not that," she told him. "I told you: that place is full of bad memories and things that have been lost. I need to be able to move on and get on with my life without living in the past. And I'm not about to quit the sidekick gig. Contrary to popular belief, part of the reason I spend so much time in that place is because I enjoy my job. But it's a double edge sword."

"Chloe-" He was cut off by Chloe's phone beeping at her.

She pulled it out of her pocket and read the text message. _Sorry for misleading you – I just like to know if I can trust an employee before I hire them. You start tomorrow. Werner._ "I'm not abandoning Green Arrow," she told Oliver firmly, looking up from her phone. "If you need me, I'll be there." She gave him a pat on the arm and moved on past him, leaving Oliver staring after her.

"No, you're not abandoning Green Arrow," he agreed. "You're abandoning Oliver Queen." And then it hit him. "Like we all abandoned you."

He pulled out his phone and made a call.

---

"So who's Werner Vertigo, and how does he concern me?" Carter Hall's gruff voice echoed around the Monitor Womb.

"Apparently he's an ex-employee of mine," Oliver told him, looking over. "But he doesn't concern you. He's my problem."

"So what do you want me for?"

"I need your help," Oliver explained.

Carter rolled his eyes. "I figured that when your text read _I need your help_."

"I'm rebuilding the Justice League. _Our_ Justice League. And you're the only person I know who's got any experience on that front," Oliver informed him.

"I don't have time for your little club games," Carter snarked at him.

"I'm not playing," Oliver glared at him. "I'm going to do this, but I'm going to do this properly. And you owe me one anyway."

"And how do you figure that one?"

"You threw me through a window!" Oliver told him, indicating to the newly replaced glass.

Carter rolled his eyes again. "Are you still going on about that one?"

"Do you have any idea how much that cost to replace?" Oliver snapped at him.

"Probably about as much as those jeans you're wearing," Carter retorted.

"Look, are you going to help or not?" Oliver growled at him.

Carter shrugged. "What about that blonde sidekick of yours? Surely she would be first on the list of getting your gang together." At Oliver's silence, Carter grinned. "You pissed her off, didn't you?"

"No," Oliver snapped. "I'm doing this _for_ her."

Carter's expression softened. "_She's_ the one?"

Oliver said nothing.

"Very well," Carter agreed. "But there are conditions."

Oliver stared at him, hesitantly. "Well?"

"One, we do this my way," Carter listed. "Two, when we're ready, you bring Courtney in with you."

Oliver nodded. "And three? "

"You keep the conversation to a minimum," Carter smirked.

* * *

_Righto, firstly, thank you so much for all the reviews, alert adds and fav adds. To say y'all floored me would be an understatement! I will be replying to all the reviews, but for those of you that haven't signed in, I just wanted to say thank you to you: Lunia, Lovethechruce, elidear, and cara410 - I would attempt to find you and drop you a pm but I know that there's often a reason why people don't sign in (otherwise I really would!)_

_I think I've mentioned that I'm trying to stick to comic book land where possible (it's the inner geek in me :D), You do get brownie points if you can catch the references! But I promise there will be a happy ending, because I'm a sucker for them! _


	3. Sherwood Florist

**Chapter 3**

_Three weeks later…_

"I have not cancelled any payments!" Oliver yelled into the phone. "And even if I had, I would have expected you to come and see me about it, rather than up and leave. Now either get your asses back to work, or I _will_ cancel the payments!" He hung up, cursing the phone as he wished he had used a land line, just for the satisfaction of slamming the phone down.

Carter, who had been stretched out on the still wrapped couch in the part finished 'family room,' snorted. "Now can we get out of here?"

"Carter, I have too much to do around here," Oliver told him, distractedly.

Carter made a grunting noise and got to his feet. "Whatever," he told him, heading for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Oliver asked, suddenly realizing that Carter was halfway out the door.

"I'm tired of waiting for you to finish pratting about over the color of the walls."

Oliver glared at him. "I'm not 'pratting about' over wall colors, Hall. I'm trying to build a home and I'm being thwarted at every turn because someone stops paying my contractors."

"You know, it's not what appliances you have that make a home, it's the people in it," Carter pointed out, being rarely philosophical.

"Yes, but I can't bring people into a home if there isn't somewhere for them to live," Oliver retorted. "Do you know how difficult it is to get a room turned into a fish tank, or sound proof a room for that matter, when there's no one around to do it?"

"So why don't you get someone here to do that?" Carter pointed out dryly.

"Yeah," Oliver agreed, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Because explaining half the things in this building would be that simple. It was you who suggested turning this into a base and making sure that everyone had a room in the building. God, it would have been easier to build this thing in space."

"No," Carter retorted. "You get one of your team here to oversee things whilst you work your way around the world apologizing to everyone else you pissed off."

Oliver glared at him. "I did not piss everyone off. You, however, are getting on my last nerve."

Carter returned the glare. "Need I point out two of those three conditions we agreed to? Now, you either get Sullivan back in here-"

"I've told you, I'm not getting Chloe in here until we're finished – it's supposed to be a surprise-"

"_Or_ you get someone else you trust. At this rate, Sullivan will never step through the door," he frowned. "Not that I've seen her for a while."

Oliver sighed. "She's been busy with her new job."

"And what about this one?" Carter asked him.

"Hey!" Oliver objected. "Chloe's not been neglecting her role as Watchtower. She's been working with Clark on the new IDs for the Kryptonians."

"Whatever you need to say to help yourself sleep at night," Carter muttered.

Oliver continued to glare at him. Sadly, Carter had hit a nerve. Whilst he was happy that things had been a little quiet on the superhero front, it meant that he had no real excuse to call Chloe round, and as such _Vertigo _(he couldn't think the guy's name without sneering) had been taking up all of Chloe's time.

"Or you could just go and see her," Carter said, as if he had read Oliver's mind.

"I thought you wanted to get the team together?" Oliver asked him.

"I thought Watchtower was one of your team," Carter pointed out.

"Ugh," Oliver exclaimed. "We're going to Seattle."

---

"Excellent work on those reports."

Chloe looked up from her computer and smiled at Werner. The work she had been doing was fun and varied. The latest task – trying to, and succeeding, in hacking into Werner's system to let him know how easy it was and what to do to improve his firewalls – hence the reports. "Thanks."

"No, it's me that owes you the thanks. I didn't realize how vulnerable my system was," Werner corrected her. "How about you let me take you out for some drinks this evening?"

Chloe softly shook her head. "Thanks, but I have plans this evening."

"Queen," Werner stated, saying his name like it was the Ebola virus.

Chloe frowned at the venom in his voice and shook her head. "No, actually it's a school friend. I promised I'd help him with something." That was the truth. Another Kryptonian soldier had agreed to try to assume a new life on earth and she had spent the previous night working on the paperwork. "I haven't spoken to Oliver in ages," she told him. Another truth. It had been weeks since she had made an appearance at the Watchtower, reasoning that the work she was doing, she could do from home.

In reality, that was the excuse. The real reason she hadn't seen Oliver was that she had been avoiding him. She'd been trying to make a point – that she really was going to attempt to have something of a normal life – but then it had gone so long, she figured that he thought she didn't want to see him. And as he had made no attempt to contact her, she'd figured it worked both ways.

"He's had some bad press," Werner told her, breaking her train of thought.

Chloe gave him a puzzled look. "Clark?"

"No, Queen," Werner responded.

"It's not all true," Chloe told him defensively. She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Actually, she hadn't seen much about Oliver in the papers at all recently. Whatever he was up to, it was keeping him busy. Maybe it was time to drop in and see how things were going.

"He can't be all that good if he's got you in this state," Werner pointed out.

Chloe shook her head. "He's not got me in a state," she told him. "I just," she paused. "Miss my friend," she admitted.

---

_Seattle_

Oliver stood across the street from the quaint flower shop, taking in all the different flowers that were in full bloom in the window. Somehow, despite the fact there was as much snow in this city as there was in Metropolis, the different colors made it look like some form of botanical garden, rather than _Sherwood Florist_.

Oliver smirked to himself. A very long time ago, he and Dinah had been playing poker and long after the money had run out, but not quite before the alcohol had dried up, for the last hand, Dinah insisted that should she win, Oliver would have to name his firstborn after her, even if it was a boy. Oliver had retaliated with, when Dinah followed her dreams and opened her own florist; she should name it after him.

Obviously, he had won.

Carter shot him a sideways look of distain. "Don't tell me you've got a thing with this one too?"

"No, I'm just really good at poker," Oliver told him, crossing the road.

Carter hurried after him. "And you think she's going to leave Sherwood Forest for you?"

"It's _Sherwood Florist_, and she did name it after me," Oliver shot over his shoulder.

"Should have called it _Sherwood Modest_," Carter muttered.

Oliver chose to ignore him and walked into through the door. At the sound of the bell jingling a woman stuck her head out from behind a bunch of lilies. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Dinah Lance," Oliver told the woman.

The woman eyed the unlikely pair up and down before opening her mouth and, with a nasally cry, yelled, "Dinah?"

Moments later, Dinah appeared from a back room, stopping short as she saw Oliver. "Oliver?"

"Hi Dinah," Oliver greeted her, suddenly feeling awkward.

The two stared at each other until the woman spoke up. "I'm going to be in the greenhouse out back," she announced.

"Thanks, Marianne," Dinah muttered as she left. Dinah turned her attention to Carter, eyeing him suspiciously.

Oliver glanced over his shoulder at him, before turning back to Dinah. "Oh, don't worry about him. This is Carter Hall."

Dinah stared expectantly at Oliver, her arms folded under her breasts.

Oliver sighed. "If you're up to date on your hero history, about fifty years ago, the world had a band of heroes and he was their leader."

"Hey!" Carter objected angrily. "It was about ten years ago. How old do you think I am?"

Oliver shot him a sideways look. "How long ago were the _Ancient_ Egyptians walking the planet?"

"I was reborn, thank you very much," Carter snapped at him.

"Whatever," Oliver muttered at him, before again returning his attention to Dinah. "Either way, he's come back out of retirement to help."

"Keep up with the ageist comments and I can assure you that help will be quickly withdrawn and you can find another way to seduce blondie."

"Don't make me whistle to break you two up," Dinah announced, holding her hands up. "Because I will. And it will hurt."

Carter sent Oliver a questioning look.

Oliver sighed. "Let me start the introductions again. Carter, this is Dinah Lance, aka, Black Canary. Dinah, Carter Hall, aka Hawkman."

A look of understanding washed over Carter. "Ah, so you're the one who's keeping the bad guys at bay up here."

"Yeah," Dinah agreed, still eyeing him warily. She turned to Oliver, keeping half an eye on the older man. "What are you doing here, Ollie, and why are telling people who I am?"

"Carter's part of the team. I want you to come home,' he explained simply.

Dinah sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Seattle needs me."

"The last I checked, the police were capable of handling things here. Metropolis is still finding new Metahumans, and then there's the Kryptonian invasion – you can't tell me you haven't wanted to use your abilities to their fullest?" Oliver accused.

"As you know perfectly well from the emails that you suddenly stopped replying to three weeks ago, yes I am bored," Dinah told him. "Of my _nighttime_ activities, Oliver. I have my store…" she trailed off. "And you know I can't go back."

Oliver walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he looked down to meet her gaze. "We need you, Canary. You're part of the team. And you're the person I trust to help me get the watchtower into a decent base. We can relocate your store if you need to." His hand moved to the brunette wig she was still wearing. "It's the only place you can be yourself."

"What about Chloe?" she asked bluntly. "We're the reason she lost her husband. She doesn't want us there."

"_I'm_ the reason she lost Jimmy," Oliver told her, the guilt quickly filling his eyes. "But I'm still there. And trust me when I say, she just wants us all back there. Even after everything, she thinks that we left because of her."

Dinah shook her head. "But we didn't."

"Prove it," Oliver challenged, stepping back and crossing his arms.

Dinah glanced down, playing absently with a lock of her hair. She looked up meeting his stare head on. "You are the most infuriating man I have ever met."

"Is that a yes?" Oliver asked her.

Dinah took in a deep breath. "It's a yes. But you're relocating the store."

---

Chloe stood outside the Daily Planet, stamping her feet – both in impatience, and also at the cold. She'd been waiting for Clark for ages and had decided to make her way to the Planet. She was about to head in when he came running up – at a 'normal' pace – behind her.

"Chloe! I'm sorry I'm late. Lois wanted me to check something out for her," he apologized.

"That's alright," Chloe told him with a warm smile. "I know what she can be like." She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope. "Here It's all in there."

Clark nodded, tucking it under his arm. "So what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in ages, and Oliver tells me you haven't been by in a while either."

Chloe shrugged. "It's this new job," she explained. "There's a lot of work."

Clark frowned. "So long as they're not keeping you from –" He stopped suddenly, focusing on something. "Chloe, I've got to go." And then he was gone.

Chloe let out a defeated sigh. When Clark had called for the papers, she had agreed, telling him, that if he had nothing planned, she'd hand them over, over a coffee. Although he had seemed surprised at first, he had quickly agreed. And for a moment, Chloe had begun to think that maybe she could actually enjoy an evening with her friend. That everything hadn't been lost.

She bowed her head, jammed her hands into her pockets and set off in the opposite direction to which Clark had gone.

"Have you been avoiding me?"

Chloe jumped, her attention instantly brought to Oliver who was standing in front of her, arms folded, head cocked, studying her. "You scared me," she told him.

"And you didn't answer the question," he returned.

"I know," she said, giving him a fleeting smile.

Inwardly, Oliver winced. Outwardly he nodded. "What are you doing now?"

Chloe frowned. "Freezing to death in the middle of the street, talking to you?"

"Yes," Oliver agreed patiently. "And what do you have planned after this?"

"What do you need me to do?" Chloe asked him.

"Need you to do?" Oliver repeated. "Why do you always assume that it's to do with work?"

Chloe merely shrugged at him.

Oliver stared at her, seeing something flash through her eyes – sadness? Regret? He shook the thought away. "Come with me," he beckoned.

Chloe glanced him behind at his motorcycle. "On that?"

"We could walk," Oliver shrugged. "But with where I have in mind, it could take a while. Unless you're chicken?"

Chloe's eyes flicked back to him, seeing the challenge in his. Twenty minutes later, after the most nerve-wracking, yet exhilarating ride, they were stood on the frozen beaches at Crater Lake. Chloe let out a deep breath and lifted her head to the icy breeze that was blowing off the lake.

Oliver stood watching her. With her eyes closed, and the wind whipping her cheeks into a healthy pink, she looked the most relaxed he'd ever seen her.

"So why are we here?" she asked him, her eyes remaining closed.

"Because here there are no distractions and no chance for anyone running off," he told her.

Chloe let out half a chuckle. "What a novel concept," she muttered dryly.

Oliver blinked. For a moment he thought she was talking about them. "Clark?" he asked.

Chloe opened her eyes and dropped to a crouching position, scooping up handful of snow. "I don't want to talk about it," she told him, standing and turning. And then, before she could throw the snow at him, a snowball had exploded on her shoulder. Her mouth dropped open at Oliver who was bent over laughing at her. So she threw the snowball, it hitting his head.

"You have completely declared war," Oliver informed her, scooping up the snow and throwing it at Chloe. She dodged it, running to the side, as he chased after her, ducking from the snowballs she was throwing.

And for a time, it was just them and the snow. Everything else was forgotten about, but on the backburner as the focused on trying to get each other with the snow, the only sound was their laughter.

Finally, Chloe sank to her knees, breathing heavily. "Enough," she told him. "I can't breathe from laughing."

Oliver approached her cautiously from the side. "Is this a real truce? Because I'm not falling for a fake one again."

Chloe held her hands in the air, showing that they were empty, before flopping backwards and staring up at the grey skies as the snow began to gently fall again. "No, I'm done. I promise."

Oliver moved over to her, staring down at her, her short hair splayed out over the snow like a halo. His eyes focused on hers, he didn't see the snowball until it was too late. "Chloe!" he yelled. "You promised."

"I had my fingers crossed," she told him between the laughter.

Oliver dropped to his knees and scooped up some more snow, pinning her down and thrusting it down her top before she could move.

Chloe let out a squeal and made to retaliate. Just as quickly, Oliver grabbed both her hands, holding them down together above her head. "Now what are you going to do?" he asked her, his face not far from hers.

Chloe stared up at him, still breathing heavily. She bit her bottom lip as flashbacks from their encounter ran through her mind, thankful that her cheeks were already flushed.

Oliver stared back. He knew exactly what _he _wanted to do. And what he wanted _her_ to do. But as he watched her chewing her lips, he knew it wasn't going to happen. He could almost see her thought processes. She was holding back. He wasn't ready to tell her how he felt and she wasn't ready to hear it. He actually groaned as he released her arms and rolled off her so he was lying on his back next to her. Words weren't going to cut it. He needed to _show_ her. And clearly, kissing her hadn't done that already. No, he was doing the right thing in bringing the team back.

"Oliver?" she said, bringing him from his thoughts.

He turned his head, finding her staring at him, her eyes a deep green color. "Chloe?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd disappeared for a moment."

"I think I had," he admitted.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah. I've just missed you," he told her. "Around the Watchtower," he added quickly when he saw her frown.

Chloe stared back at the sky. "It's been a while," she said quietly. "It's probably time I ran some diagnostic checks on the computers."

"You can do it tonight, if you want? I'll even foot for a pizza?" he offered, hoping that hadn't sounded as desperate to her as it had to him. "And you've yet to try out that coffee machine."

Chloe couldn't stop her mouth from twitching into a smile. "Coffee would be good," she agreed.

"Good," Oliver told her, standing up and brushing the snow off him, before offering a hand. She accepted it and he easily pulled her to her feet. "Your hands are cold."

Chloe frowned at him. "So are yours. Snowballs usually do that."

Oliver mentally shook himself. "Come on," he told her, heading back to the bike.

The ride back into the city didn't seem to take half as long and they were at the Watchtower before they knew it. Chloe hopped off her bike and stared up at the building. "Is someone doing work on it?" she asked, slightly panicked at the sight of the scaffolding that reached up nearly to the top of the building – too close to the penthouse and all the sensitive information in there.

"Yeah," Oliver agreed vaguely. "But I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about," he told her, leading her into the building.

Chloe nodded, still frowning as they took the lift to the last floor. It pinged open and the pair walked into the room.

"You want your usual?" Oliver asked, pulling out his phone.

Chloe nodded, about to make her way to her computer when a familiar voice called out across the room making her freeze.

"Ollie? Is that you?" Dinah called, stepping out from the room which had her brand new, only used once, bed in it, wearing only dressing gown. Dinah stopped the second she spotted Chloe. "Chloe."

Chloe forced a smile. Happy as she was to see her, seeing her appear from the bedroom wearing very little was not what she expected. "Hi Dinah." She turned to Oliver who was looking mortified. "You know, I think I'm going to head home. I could do with a hot bath," she mumbled before dashing over to the lift.

Oliver quickly found his feet and hurried after her. "Chloe, I can explain."

"You don't have to explain anything," she told him quickly. "I'll see you later," she told him as she disappeared from sight.

"I think I need an explanation," Dinah announced.

Oliver turned, sighing. "What are you doing here?" he asked her wearily.

Dinah blinked. "Did I completely hallucinate the visit I had this morning when you asked me to come back to Metropolis. Because I can head back the way I came," she told him, turning on her heel.

"Dinah, wait," Oliver called after her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just… I wasn't expecting you so soon."

Dinah turned back to him. "I figured why wait. Marianne can keep things under control while I look for a new store location here. So now we've explained why I'm here, are you going to tell me what just happened?"

"I slept with Chloe," he told her.

Dinah's mouth dropped open. "I thought she was smarter than that," she said.

Oliver glared at her. "Thanks."

"Oliver, Chloe's more of a long-term thing. And, well, you're not," Dinah told him.

"I know," he muttered, staring at the ground.

Dinah's eyes suddenly bulged. "Oh. My. God! You like her."

Oliver's head jerked up. "Now, how the hell did you manage to work that out in a few minutes and Chloe can't see what's right in front of her?" he asked, too shocked to deny it.

"Because sometimes they're the hardest things to see, especially when you won't let yourself see them," Dinah frowned. "And especially when someone with a reputation like yours leads her into a room with a woman in a robe. Oliver, you idiot! Why didn't you say something?"

"Because she's not ready to hear it," he told her.

"I'm talking about me, not her, idiot!" she snorted.

Oliver glared at her. "Will you stop calling me an idiot?"

"Will you stop acting like one?" Dinah retorted. "Stop staring at me and go after her."

Oliver shook his head. "No matter what I say to her right now, all she will see if you in a robe," he frowned. "And you explained what you're doing in Metropolis, but why are you wearing a robe in here?"

"Because your contractors are useless and my room looks like a building site. I figured I would come up here and use the shower – I didn't think it would be a problem – and then I discovered that there was no hot water, never mind heating."

Oliver raked his hands through his hair. "That's why you're here. Someone keeps cancelling my payments on this place and nothing's getting done. I need you to oversee things whilst I get the others back."

Dinah's expression softened. "You really have it bad for her, don't you?"

"More than you know," he admitted.

Dinah grinned. "Well let's get _her_ back."

* * *

_TBC..._

_As always, thank you for all the reviews alert and fav adds! You honestly have no idea how much that means to me! And because I can't reply, I also want to say a big thank you to elidear and Lovethechruce!!_

_Oh, for all the none comic book geeks out there, at the end, I will post a little who's who for you :)_


	4. Onomatopoeia

_Sorry for the disappearing act - I had to write a 45 page script for an assignment and I was a little focused on that._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"_Can I just call her already?_"

"No," Oliver sighed.

"_Oliver, this is the third day in a row that payments have been cancelled,_" Dinah pointed out, rolling her eyes. _"Clearly someone is hacking into your accounts and screwing around with things."_

"Trust me when I say, I am perfectly aware and I have a team on it," Oliver told her.

"_Yes, and we both know that your _team_ is nothing in comparison to Super Hacker Chloe,"_ said Dinah. "_So how about you get off your stubborn ass and let me go see her?"_

"I told you, this is a surprise for Chloe," Oliver informed her.

"_Yes, and you don't want her to know what you're doing until it's done,_" Dinah recited like a bored parrot. "_Well the fact is, Ollie, unless you get someone in to fix this, or you can narrow down the person you pissed off, it's not going to get done and you and Chloe aren't going to get that happily ever after."_

Oliver sighed. "Look, as soon as I'm done in New Venice, I will get straight on that plane and bring Victor home."

"_It's taken you three days to pin AC down,_" Dinah told him. "_At least Chloe is in the same zip code."_

"We're not getting Chloe," Oliver said firmly. "And the reason it's taken me so long to find AC is that he was getting back to his roots… if fish have roots… and went into hiding after he pulled off the sequel to _Free Willy_ with a Free Shamu. _Sea World_ is never going to recover."

"_Fine,_" Dinah huffed. "_But if you get back and nothing's changed, then you know why."_

"Telling her would make everything a whole lot easier, you know," Carter informed him as Oliver stuck the phone in his pocket.

"I'm not telling her." Oliver marched off, ending the discussion before it could begin. There was nothing he wanted more than to tell Chloe exactly how he felt, but he knew, especially since he hadn't even called her since she stormed out of the Watchtower, that she wouldn't believe him.

He sighed and crossed the street, heading down to the docks. It was the most frustrating thing. For months he hadn't looked twice at the blonde haired sidekick and now he couldn't get her out of his head. Lying in bed, trying, and failing miserably, to get to sleep, his brain kept trying to rationalize it: it was the chase.

But, the other part of his brain would argue, would you really go to this much effort when you could get just about any girl you wanted?

_Yes_. The answer was always yes. And although there was no chance in hell – that hell would have to freeze over – that Clark would have to start popping green kryptonite like it was candy – before he _ever_ admitted it out loud, but Carter was right. He had never really told anybody he cared for them, except Lois. And look how that one had turned out.

Here was a woman who was smart, sassy, witty, wasn't afraid to stand up to him, and had very similar views on truth and justice. Who, to top it all off, was beautiful and whose body somehow fitted perfectly alongside his. Who he was _afraid_ to tell exactly how he felt, because with the way he had been acting – the way he had always acted, he knew she souldn't believe him. Because at the end of the day she would think that she would just get hurt and disappointed like everyone else.

The long nights had also allowed him to pinpoint the moment. The exact moment he had realized when he had fallen for her.

At first he had thought it had been when he had sat opposite her, whilst she had been drinking that cup of coffee, and confronted her about her role in saving him. When he had asked her if a truck had been necessary and she had merely smiled and told him that it would have been more effective than a tricycle. When he realized that, despite everything – that she should really blame him for her husband's death – she still cared enough to save him. Not by sticking him in therapy and rehab, as most people would have. But by showing to him, that he was still capable of being the hero he'd wanted to be and thought that he was no longer able to be.

No.

He had realized a few hours later. When he had been talking with Lois. The woman he loved, would always love, and would never be able to love anyone else because of.

Yes, he did love Lois and would almost certainly always love her. But he wasn't _in love_ with her.

How, when he looked at the incredible woman in front of him, he saw Chloe Sullivan staring back at him.

At first, he'd put it down to the traumatic events he'd just been put through. But then, as he got back into the leather and Green Arrow spent more time with Watchtower, his heart finally got his head to admit that he enjoyed spending time with her, and was making up excuses to be there. Like target practice. He'd always done that in his penthouse, and now he was doing it the watchtower?

"Unless you've discovered you've got heat rays in your eyes like Kent, the only way you're getting into that boat is by getting on it and knocking on the door."

Carter's dry tone brought him back to the present and the boat he had been staring at. "Have I told you how annoying you are?" he asked Carter.

"Yeah," Carter told him. "You can't shut up."

"Are you two going to stand there bickering all day?" AC asked, climbing out of the water behind them.

The two men turned. "What do you mean?" Oliver asked him.

"Dude, I could hear you two arguing two miles out," AC laughed. "What are you doing here? Because I'm guessing it's not the weather?"

"It's time to come home," Oliver said simply.

AC smiled. "I am home," he said, nodding his head to the boat.

"That's a boat," Carter told him.

"And that's stating the obvious," Oliver retorted, rolling his eyes

"Were you two brothers in a past life?" AC asked, earning a glare of the pair.

"I can assure you that I have _never_ met him in a past life. Thank the Gods," Carter announced.

Oliver sighed. "AC, this isn't your home. Your home is with us. Your family. We need you. Chloe needs you."

AC nodded. "I know. But I need water. And I couldn't get much more landlocked in Metropolis if I tried. It's practically the center of the country, and being a city, it's not exactly full of lakes and rivers."

"No, but you've got your own fish tank," Carter told him.

"Hey!" Oliver snapped. "That was supposed to be a surprise."

Carter rounded on him. "What is it with you and surprises? If you don't tell, they don't know. And if they don't know she's not coming home."

AC stared at the pair, frowning. "Have I missed something?"

"Yeah, Queen here has a-"

"Enough!" Oliver cried in frustration. "AC, come home."

AC looked at the pair, shrugged, then nodded. "Alright."

---

"I need your help," Dinah announced before Chloe was barely out of the door to Vertigo Labs.

Chloe quickly covered her startled look with a frown. "I'm not sure-"

Dinah stepped in front of her and shook her head. "No."

"No, what?" Chloe asked, staring up at her in confusion.

"No, there is nothing going on between me and Oliver."

"I don't need an explanation," Chloe started, but she was again cut off.

"Maybe not. But I don't want you assuming the wrong things. I'm back in Metropolis for a while, and Ollie was good enough to help me out so I called around to say thank you," Dinah informed her.

Chloe arched an eyebrow. "And taking your clothes off was necessary for that thank you?"

"Way off base," Dinah informed her lightly. "I came in, bringing coffee for _all_ of us, only the klutz here spilt it down herself," she said, giving her reheresed explanation. Alright, so Oliver didn't want Dinah ruining the surprise, and whilst she was going to try her hardest to make sure that didn't happen, she also knew that Oliver was being a stubborn ass. The only person who was going to get to the bottom of the problems was Chloe. "So, I went for a shower, only I discovered there was no hot water. I was just going to the boiler to see if I could work out was wrong."

Chloe eyed her warily. "Dinah, I've seen you in action. You move with such precision, I find it highly unlikely that someone with your skill could spill three cups of coffee down themselves. And I didn't see any coffee cups anywhere."

"That's because I had cleaned it up," Dinah shrugged. "Plus there's the fact that there had been new editions to the watchtower and I walked straight into a new coffee table. Not one of my finest moments."

Chloe continued to stare up at her and sighed. "Dinah, either way, I don't care what is or isn't happening between you and Oliver."

Dinah grinned. "Liar."

Chloe scowled at her, opened her mouth to retort, and instead sighed. "What do you need help with?" she asked wearily.

"The watchtower. Someone keeps killing energy payments to the place and you're the only person I know who can work out who."

"Victor is perfectly capable of doing the same job. With his eyes closed," Chloe pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're here and Victor isn't," Dinah returned. "Unless there's a reason you don't want to go in there."

"Of course there isn't," Chloe told her. "I just have a lot going on with my job."

"Yeah," Dinah shrugged. "But you have two jobs. And the one you're not doing is stopping the rest of us from doing as well."

Chloe chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "You're right," she announced suddenly. "And I need to put that job back to the top of the priority list."

---

Vertigo was standing with his back to his office door, staring with regret at the eight foot country scene which hung behind his desk. Vlatvia. His home country. His home. And as the last royal descendent, _his_ country. Unfortunately, civil war had forced his parents to flee, and now it was no longer considered his. But one way or another, he was going to get it back.

The first step had been his education. Top of his class at MIT, he had excelled in electronics and had soon designed his own hearing aid. He presented his idea to a man in Research and Development at Queen Industries, and, seeing the potential, he had been hired and the hearing aid put into production.

And then the company started making job cuts, and convinced his job was secured because of his design, Werner hadn't worried. When an immaculate white envelope with his name in black ink was left on his desk, he didn't think much. And when he opened it and read his job was no longer needed, he could barely believe it.

He had stormed straight to his manager and demanded an explanation. The manager had just shrugged saying the trustees who had been left in charge whilst the owner's son had attended college were no longer in charge now that said son had returned to take control. Apparently, first on the agenda was to decrease the outgoings before increasing the income. And Werner, one of the last to the company, was going to be one of the first to leave. And that it wasn't personal.

Werner could have believed that. But then he had gone to get his share of the profits from his designs.

Only to discover that when he signed his contract with Queen Industries, he had signed the rights away to his designs and they were now the sole property of the company.

_That _was personal.

Furious, Werner had gone straight to his lawyers and tried to sue. It was laughed off before it even made it close to the court room.

So Werner had decided to get his revenge. He retreated into his home and put his computer skills to use. Unable to hack into Queen Industries, he began hacking into various companies whose security wasn't as good.

His luck came, when only six months later, he managed to hack his way onto a very exclusive party planner's computer – and basically got the party itinerary of one Oliver Queen. The rest was simple. Posing as a deck hand, he snuck onto Queen's yacht and waited for an opportunity to confront him. It hadn't taken long for him to get drunk and Werner took his chance. Only Queen was too inebriated and kept claiming he had no idea what Werner was talking about. Finally, he lost his temper and pushed him overboard. And little playboy Oliver Queen was never heard from again.

Two years later, he had Vertigo Labs, had developed more hearing aids.

Just as he was putting his plans into motion to reclaim his country, Queen's name was blazing across the headlines – back from the dead, having survived on a deserted island.

Terrified, Werner had been unable to concentrate and his prototype experiment with radioactive powered hearing aids had gone horribly wrong. Or horribly _right_.

The hearing aid he had been testing had become molded to his ear, and before he knew it, he was able to not only distort the balance of everyone around him, but he could also knock out security cameras and affect other security features.

By chance, he met Queen at a charity event with other prominent businessmen in Gotham City, and for a moment, he thought he was done. But Queen had shook his hand and Werner had realized that Queen didn't remember him or what he had done.

For some reason, that infuriated Werner even more. Count Vertigo had been born. So he opened a new lab in Metropolis after learning that Queen was spending time there. After months of research, Vertigo knew that the most important thing to Queen was his company and thus, he spent millions trying to take it down, then trying to buy him out.

Nothing satisfied him more when he read in the papers that Queen was spiraling downwards in drunken binge after drunken binge, and both Queen Industries and Luthor Corp. were losing faith in him. It hadn't hurt that whilst Queen had been preoccupied with the booze, Vertigo had been hacking into Queen's subsidiary companies and doing as much as he could discreetly do to ruin them to buy them out.

And then, out of the blue, Queen was smiling again and the drink binges were a thing of the past. Even when he had cracked the firewalls at the power company – originally to benefit his own company – but had decided that whilst he was there he could continue to hurt Queen.

In the process, he had discovered that Queen was paying for power to a building in the city, yet there was no other records for this building anywhere.

At first he thought it was a mistake. So he cancelled the payments and switched the gas off.

But within hours, someone had hacked into back into the Power Company's system and switched it on.

Vertigo was in awe. It had taken him months to do what this person had done in a fraction of the time. A twenty minute drive had sent him to a none descript tower block and a little more patience showed a blonde woman leaving. He had followed her home and done some research.

And imagine his luck when the blonde had applied for a job at his lab!

Since then, he had had her improving his own firewalls so that even she couldn't hack in, and then, examining her work, had realized she had designed the same firewalls to stop anyone snooping around whatever was going on in that building. He just hadn't quite worked out _how_ to crack her firewalls and get in. But he was close.

And in the meantime, seeing Queen's reaction as he a) spent more time with Chloe, and b) as he amused himself cancelling payments to the contractors working in the building, was priceless. But there was something about the work which didn't quite add up.

From what he could gather, there was the obvious of a renovation taking place. A new kitchen, plenty of furniture, new bathroom suites… but there were items being added to soundproof a room and nothing in Queen's history had suggested that he wanted to become a music mogul and open his own recording studio. The pool supplies looked a little suspicious too. Especially in February. In the city. Without a garden to put it. Or a roof.

There was also the other problem Queen was posing. Somewhere along the lines, Vertigo was finding that he was actually quite attracted to the sassy blonde. Only, as far as Vertigo was concerned, she was just another thing that Queen was taking away from him.

Well, if Vertigo couldn't have her, neither would Queen. And removing her from Queen's life would be the best revenge he could imagine. Not only would Queen lose something important to him, the loss would inevitably send Queen Industries straight into Vertigo's pockets and everything else would just fall into place.

Which is why Vertigo continued to stare at the picture in front of him – a picture of his future – when someone entered the room and approached the desk behind him.

"I'm glad you decided to come." Vertigo turned and looked at the man in front of him. His image was one that indicated he liked to hide in the shadows – all in black, long coat, black eyes, black hair with long sideburns reaching down to his chin. And Vertigo knew exactly what his reputation was. "So, you're apparently the best?"

The man nodded.

Vertigo cocked his head. "Why?"

The man merely shrugged.

Vertigo smiled. "And you're happy to become my hired gun."

The man shrugged again before raising his right hand and rubbing his thumb over his fingers.

"Oh, the price will be right," Vertigo assured him. "I just need proof that you're as good as the rumors say."

The man smiled and held his hand up, imitating a gun. He cocked his hand and aimed it at the walnut name holder fixed to Vertigo's desk. "Blam!" There was the sound of a gun being fired and the next thing Vertigo knew, there was a bullet hole, straight through the center of the 'o' in his surname.

Vertigo blinked. "That's pretty impressive. What else can you do?"

The man gave him a sly grin and pointed his fist at the vase of lilies which sat in a glass vase on top of the small conference table in the office. He opened his hands as he said, "boom!" and the vase exploded, sending glass, water and plants pieces raining over the table.

Vertigo rose to his feet and walked to the other side of the table, extending his hand. "And what do I call you?" he asked the man as they shook hands.

"Onomatopoeia."

"Well, Onomatopoeia, I have a target for you," Vertigo told him, producing a picture. "This is Chloe Sullivan and I want her dead."

* * *

_TBC..._


	5. Chloilicious

**Chapter Five**

"Cancun?" Victor said, glancing around at the clear blue skies and palm trees. "He chose the right place to take time off."

"You're the one that chose Detroit," AC laughed. "You could have gone somewhere a little warmer, south of the border."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Bart came to Mexico for the food, not for the weather. The kid can run faster than rain, so the weather is hardly going to make a factor."

"It also has less technology, making him harder to track down," Oliver mumbled.

AC shook his head. "Nah, the stolen credit cards made it harder for us to track him down."

Victor nodded. "You're just lucky I was able to hack his Facebook account to find his IP address."

AC laughed again. "Luck had nothing to do with it. His password was 'Chloilicious,' I mean it wouldn't have taken us that long to work it out."

"Maybe not," Victor said, shaking his head. "But let's face it, without Chloe, it would have taken you ages to get his location without me. Speaking of, oh fearless leader," Victor turned to Oliver. "When do we get to have Chloe back onboard?"

"When everything's finished," Oliver told him shortly.

"Or when he gets the balls to tell her how he feels," Carter muttered, loud enough for the team to hear.

"What have I told you?" Oliver shot at him.

Carter shrugged. "I don't know. I'm paying as much attention to your requests as you are to mine."

"We're a team," Oliver said in exasperation. "We communicate."

Immediately after leaving New Venice, the three of them had taken the Queen jet and flown straight to Detroit. Victor, who had been moonlighting as a superhero there, much like Dinah, had taken one look at Oliver and said, "I'll get my bags." Without requiring any explanation, he had done exactly that and followed them back to the jet for the introductions and Carter's catty remarks as to why he was being recalled.

As soon as Oliver had mentioned that the last member of the team was proving a little difficult to track down, Victor had suggested the Facebook option. It had taken him minutes to hack Bart's account, track down the IP address Bart was sending his vague status updates from and translate that right down to the room number in a hotel in Cancun.

Although he wasn't going to admit it, Carter had been right about recruiting Dinah to work out the logistics back at the Watchtower. They'd completed nearly a four and a half thousand mile round trip since leaving Metropolis in the space of a day, and thankfully, the last thing he had had to worry about was how things were going back home. As soon as he'd gotten Bart onboard, he was going to check in with Dinah and see how things were going.

He spotted the teen spread out on a sun lounger wearing only his trademark red, swim shorts. Next to him was an elaborate cocktail that Oliver was certain contained liquor that Bart would have 'nipped' in himself. Really, the kid needed to be back in the watchtower under supervision.

"You guys wait here," Oliver told the group as he approached the lounger. He walked over, standing in front of him.

"Dude, you're blocking my sun!" Bart complained, reaching up to pull his shades off. "Oh. It's you," he said flatly.

"Nice to see you too," Oliver muttered.

"I'm not going back," Bart told him shortly.

Oliver frowned. "You've been ignoring my texts, my calls, Facebook messages."

Bart shrugged. "I sent you a text."

"You sent a text saying 'I'm done'," Oliver growled, trying to bite back his annoyance. "No explanation, _nothing_."

Bart sat upright and glared at him. "No explanation? Didn't you see Chloe's face at Jimmy's funeral? What more of an explanation do you need? I'm done!"

"Bart, it's okay," Oliver sighed.

Bart shook his head, jumping to his feet. "Okay? Oliver, I may not have the cleanest record, but not once have I _ever_ done anything that killed an innocent person. Until I teamed up with you. And that innocent person was Jimmy, no less. If that's now much hurt we could cause Chloe _without_ trying, I'd hate to see what we could accomplish when we do try. No," he shook his head. "I'm done."

"Bart, stop being a childish-"

"Leave him be," Carter interrupted, grabbing Oliver's arm and yanking him back.

"Who the hell are you, grandpa?" Bart snapped at him.

Carter glared at him. "Someone who's contemplating _letting_ Queen kick your ass."

"I was _not_ going to kick his ass!" Oliver said in exasperation as he pulled his arm free. "Carter, just leave it," he turned to Bart. "Bart, I'm bringing everyone home. For Chloe. It's what she wants."

Bart looked at him sadly and shook his head. "I'm sorry Ollie, but I have no right to call that place home anymore."

And before he could comment, he was gone.

Oliver let out a deep breath and turned to Carter. "Stop getting involved," he grumbled, heading back to Victor and AC who had been watching the scene patiently.

"That went well," AC muttered.

"Look, if Bart's password was Chloilicious, he still obviously cares about her," Victor told them. "He's gonna come back eventually."

"I don't think I can wait for 'eventually'," Oliver frowned.

Vertigo sat at his desk, staring at the photo in front of him as he stroked the side of Chloe's ever smiling face. A knock at the door startled him from his thoughts and he quickly thrust the picture in his desk drawer. "Yes?"

The door opened and Chloe walked through, smiling. "Hey Werner," she greeted him, bounding up to the desk and placing some files in front of him. "Your systems are completely, 100% unhackable."

"I don't think unhackable is a word," Werner smiled back at her.

Chloe shrugged. "It's a Chloeism."

Werner picked up the file and flicked through it. "Chloe, this is fantastic," he told her.

"I aim to please."

Werner looked up. "Well how about you let me take you for a meal – as a thank you? I can have you picked up at 8?"

The smile fell from Chloe's face a fraction. "I can't tonight. I promised a friend I'd help her out with something and I'm about to head over there now." She bit her lip. "But it shouldn't take too long and we could have a late supper instead?"

Werner beamed. "Call me."

Chloe returned the smile and extracted herself from the room.

Werner waited for the door to close before pulling the photograph back out. Maybe he'd been a little too hasty. He reached for the phone and dialed, waiting for an answer. He didn't wait long. "I've changed my mind," he said. "I'm sending you a picture of the new target now." He pulled up a stock photo of Oliver and attached it to the email. "I want him dead, and I want it done tonight." He hung up and turned his attention back to the photograph of Chloe. If she was willing to meet later, then maybe they had a chance. And it would only be fair to give them a chance, wouldn't it?

If, after Oliver's death she still didn't see him how he wanted, well, Onomatopoeia's number was on file.

It didn't take her long to get to her trusty computers at the watchtower where Dinah had a steaming mug of coffee waiting for her."You know me well," she muttered to the woman as she inhaled the aroma.

"Better than you know yourself," Dinah thought. "They cancelled the payments again last night," she said aloud.

Chloe smiled, setting her hands ready to start typing. "Perfect."

Dinah stood, watching her work for a few minutes before quickly becoming bored. "I'll leave you to it," she told the smaller blonde. Fairly certain that Chloe hadn't even heard her, she left, heading down a floor.

This floor was one that was quickly coming together. Gone were all of the interior walls, replaced with structural columns where needed, to reveal a very open planned kitchen, come dining area, come living area. The windows were glistening, the carpets still smelled new, the wooden floor in the kitchen was shining. All the appliances had their packaging removed and the instruction manuals laid out clearly on the island unit.

There were four enormous couches surrounding a real wood fire – if the gas was going to get cut off on a regular basis, Dinah was going to make damn sure that there was a source of heat in the building – with the largest TV screen she could get her hands on.

But the best part, as far as Dinah was concerned, was the table. Taking a leaf from the Justice Society, she had spent hours looking for a round table that would seat them all, to make sure that no one was the head of the table and that they would all be equal.

She'd found it by chance. She'd gotten a call from her realtor who had apparently found her a perfect location to set up a Metropolis location of _Sherwood Florist_. The realtor had been right – it was just down the street. Close enough that she could get back easily if needed, and far enough that she was actually leaving the building to get to work. But whilst she had been looking around inside it, she had discovered that the once antique store still had a few items left over, including a round oak table, large enough to seat fourteen people with fourteen matching chairs. Admittedly the seats on the chairs had needed re-covering, and the table itself had been a complete nightmare to get in the building, but it had fit in perfectly. She'd even gotten the Justice League logo engraved in the centre.

No, this room was perfect, and short of stocking the cavernous fridge, this room was finished. She only stopped in to admire her efforts and to prove to herself that no matter how troublesome the rest of the damn building was being due to all the cancelled payments and jobs, that with a little perseverance, it could be fantastic.

She headed further down. The third floor had lost the majority of its floor, merging it with the second floor to create a giant indoor aqua area. It had taken the best part of the entire time Oliver had been away to create what was a fantastic engineering feat. The water filled second floor was practically a giant fish tank, complete with a sandy floor, coral and plants. Dinah as going to get some fish to go in it too… As soon as they could get a guy to stay long enough to fix the heating in it. The other part of the room was nautically themed but missing the vital furniture.

Bart's and Courtney's rooms were finished. Theirs were the easiest. Frankly, they looked like a college student's room – a college student with enough money to buy a really big TV and every games console under the sun. Victor's was much the same although the electronic gizmos that adorned the room were much more high tech and could serve a more useful purpose.

Dinah turned and headed back up to check on the painters further up. This floor housed two rooms – two rooms that Oliver didn't know she'd been doing – his and Chloe's. They may not have been ready to share a bed, but she knew they would both want to be a part of the home.

It wasn't until the painters started packing their gear away and she had been ready to yell at them not to go anywhere that Dinah realized that it was gone eight and she had been down there for a few hours. Surprised that Chloe hadn't found anything and called her, she saw the men out of the building and headed back to the Monitor Womb.

Only Chloe wasn't there. Dinah quickly scanned the room and pulled out her phone, dialing Chloe's number. It went straight to voicemail. With a frown, she headed over to the computers to see if there was a clue there. The only thing blinking at her was Chloe's name.

"We're back," AC announced, walking into the room and looking around. "Couches!" he exclaimed happily, heading over and dropping onto one.

"Dinah, this place looks great," Victor told her.

"This place looks the same," Carter muttered.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked her, staring at her intently. "What's that?" he asked, noticing the monitors behind her.

"I don't know," Dinah said slowly.

"Well what do you know?" he asked.

"What do you know about what?" Chloe asked, stepping out of the elevator carrying a cardboard mug of coffee. She stopped when she spotted the group dotted about the room, trying to look inconspicuous and failing miserably. "What's happened?" she asked instantly. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you always think there's something wrong when you see me?" Oliver asked.

"Because you never tell her how you're feeling for her to think otherwise!" Carter told him, rolling his eyes. "The woman is not psychic and you've been using enough smoke and mirrors to confuse everyone."

"Carter, shut up!" Oliver roared. He grabbed the coffee cup out of Chloe's hands and slammed it on the side, before taking Chloe's arm, placing his other hand on her lower back and leading her out of the room and into the elevator.

"Ollie?" Chloe looked up at him in confusion as he hammered at the button. "What just happened?"

"Chloe, there's something I need to tell you, and I can't do it here. I can't do it anywhere near this place and the people in it because I don't want you thinking this has anything to do with them."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Ollie, you're scaring me."

Oliver's hand fell away from the button and he looked over at Chloe. With a sigh he stepped in front of her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Chloe, do you trust me?"

Although her eyebrow cocked upwards she relaxed slightly. "Yes?"

"Then trust me now," he said softly.

Finally the doors slid open and Chloe followed him to his bike. "You and this bike," she muttered, getting on behind him. Before she knew it, they were back at Crater Lake where the freshly falling snow had long since covered up any trace that they had been there.

"What are we doing here?" Chloe asked him, sliding off the bike.

Oliver killed the engine and pulled his helmet off, resting it on the seat between his legs. "Chloe, you are ether the most intelligent idiot, or the dumbest genius."

Chloe bristled. "Oliver, if I wanted to be insulted..." she clamped her mouth closed, thrust her hands in her pockets and started walking.

Oliver leapt of the bike and chased after her. "Chloe! Wait!"

Chloe ignored him until he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. "What?" she demanded, staring at him.

Oliver stared back, trying desperately to read her and failing miserably. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I had a huge speech planned in my head and that's not how I wanted to start."

"I don't have time for games, Ollie," she muttered, turning away again as her phone bleeped at her.

Oliver stared at her back of her head. "Chloe, I love you."

Chloe pulled the phone out and stared at the display, her mouth dropping opened. "That's not possible," she whispered.

"See, this is what I mean when I say you're either an intelligent idiot or a dumb genius," Oliver sighed. He stepped around her and pulled the phone out of her hands, slipping it in his pocket.

"Hey!" Chloe cried. "You don't understand – I"

Oliver let out a frustrated grunt and pulled her to him, silencing her with a kiss, trying to filter every single ounce of emotion he was feeling into his lips. Finally he pulled apart, resting his forehead against hers. "You have got to be one of the most frustrating people on the planet, Sullivan."

Chloe shut her eyes, breathing heavily. "What was that?"

"I don't know how many ways I can try and tell you this Chloe, but this is me telling you that I love you."

Chloe's eyes shot open. "No you don't."

Oliver took a step back. "Yeah," he corrected her. "I do."

"No you don't," Chloe said again.

"Yes, I –" Oliver stopped. "Look, I'm not having an argument over this like we're eight years old, Chlo. I. Love. You. And I want it to be only you. That night was never supposed to be a one night thing, and believe it or not, it wasn't my intention to have you drag me into bed like that – not that I'm complaining – and I was going-"

"Why?" Chloe blurted out.

Oliver stopped and frowned. "Why what?"

"Why me?" Chloe asked quietly, dropping her gaze to the floor. "I'm broken. I can't... I get people killed."

Oliver stared down at her and with a sudden feeling of determination dropped to his knee and looked up at her. "You didn't get Jimmy killed. And I'm still alive, aren't I?"

No sooner had he said did he let out a grunt of pain and slump forwards. Chloe fell to the floor next to him. "Oliver!" she cried, rolling him over. Aside from a line of blood where his head had hit a rock hidden under the snow, it didn't seem like there was anything wrong with him. And then her eyes fell on the small dots of crimson that had formed where he had fallen. Chloe's eyes widened in horror as she yanked the zip down on his jacket. Soaking into the cream jumper he was wearing were two circles of blood. "No!" she screamed, trying to get her hands on the bleeding.

She shut her eyes, wishing desperately that she still had the ability to heal him. Suddenly the calm and rational thoughts set in. Phone… 911… Ambulance… She couldn't save him but the doctors could. Her eyes flew open and she went to search his pockets for a phone. Then three things happened in quick succession. First, Oliver let out the quietest moan. Secondly, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, and third, as the person held onto her and mutter 'poof', she vanished.

Oliver let out another moan, this time louder and stronger.

But there was no one there to hear it.

_tbc..._

* * *

_Apologies for yet another disappearing act y'all. Long story short - real life came and kicked me in the ass! I hope everyone's still reading?!_

_Big thanks for all the fav / alert adds. Also, because I couldn't hit reply on your reviews - thanks to LovetheChruce and ana_


	6. Firewall

**Chapter 6: Firewall**

"Oliver!" Chloe awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in… bed? With a frown, she looked around, her hands moving softly over the plum silk sheets she had been laid upon. "Okay," she muttered slowly. The room was lit dimly with candles, their flickering light revealing she was in a bedroom she certainly didn't recognize. Opposite her bed was an enormous window, taking up the best part of the wall, revealing the Metropolis landscape from somewhere within the heart of the city.

Still frowning, Chloe slipped from between the sheets, setting her feet down on… She looked down at the unfamiliar feeling beneath her bare feet. Rose petals. The confusion turned to intrigue as her eyes followed a path of rose petals to a door.

Chloe stood up and gave herself the once over. She was wearing only her underwear, and they were definitely the same ones she had put on that morning. The rest of her clothes were nowhere in sight. Her mind quickly replayed the events leading up to her being there, and they were coming up short. The last thing she could remember was Oliver being shot, someone grabbing her, and, well, that was it. Her eyes shot to her hands. There wasn't a single trace of blood on them.

"I dreamt it?" she asked herself uncertainly. Her hands dropped back to her sides and her gaze fell on the open bottle of champagne on the bedside table, a glass already fizzing away for her. She ignored it, reaching for the cream card next to it and opened it, reading the gold hand written message inside.

_Chloe, I didn't want to wake you – you looked so beautiful sleeping. Take your time in the bath and meet me in the dining room for dinner. X _

The familiarity of the cursive writing gave her a sense of ease. The message – not so much. Who had been watching her sleep, and how the hell had she gotten there?

Chloe dropped the card and followed the trail of petals. In the next room was a large, free standing bath, the tub already full of steamy, inviting bubbles. But it wasn't that which caught her attention – it was the dress hanging to the side.

It was beautiful – elegant. A knee length, silk affair, the color of fresh moss.

_Oliver_. Chloe smiled. Only he would be able to pull something off like this. She was, of course, going to kick his ass. Admittedly it wasn't his fault that she had been dreaming about him getting shot, but the fear that she had awoken with? Yeah, she was going to blame that on him, she thought with a smile as she slipped out of her underwear and into the tub.

* * *

Crater Lake was silent apart from the sound of the growing wind as it sent flurries of snow dancing around the air. The silence was broken by a groan. Oliver gritted his teeth and pulled out his phone. "Impulse," he ground out. The phone automatically dialed the preset number. The phone barely rang before Bart answered.

"_I told you, I'm not coming back,"_ Bart's voice told him.

"Help," Oliver managed weakly. "Crater lake…" The phone fell from his hand.

"_Oliver?_"

Seconds later, the snow was whipping madly in the air as Bart came to an abrupt halt, still wearing only his board shorts and a pair of flip flops. "Oliver!" he yelled, ignoring the cold as he quickly scanned the area, spotting the green bike instantly. He was by the side of it in the blink of an eye, quickly finding his fallen leader in the snow.

"What the hell?" he cried, dashing over. The two circles of blood were growing before his eyes. With a grunt, Bart hoisted the limp body over his shoulder. "You really need to lose some weight," he grunted, before disappearing in a blur.

Dr Hamilton was enjoying a glass of red wine as he watched his guilty pleasure – reruns of _Grey's Anatomy_. It was a rare night off and he was going to enjoy it. He should have known better.

Before anyone could make a reference to _McDreamy_, his apartment door had burst open and Oliver Queen was lying across his coffee table.

"You gotta help him, Doc," Bart Allen was telling him, speaking as fast as he could move.

The doctor blinked. "Wait, what happened?" he asked as he moved over to the body.

"I don't know," Bart told him, his words, whilst still rushed were now at a more understandable speed. "It looks like he's been shot."

"My medical kit is by the door, get it." Before he could blink, the case was by his side. He cut the jumper away so he could examine his wounds. "Bart, he needs a hospital."

"No, no hospital," Oliver told him weakly.

"That's what he told me," Bart told Hamilton.

"You need blood, Oliver. Blood, sterile equipment, anesthetic-"

"No," Oliver repeated. "The hospital will keep me in. Someone took Chloe-"

"They'd keep you in for good reason-"

"Chloe?" Bart's voice rang out, cutting the other two men off. "Who has Chloe?"

"I don't know," Oliver responded. "She was there, and then she wasn't."

"She can't just disappear into thin air," Bart objected.

"You can move faster than anything on this planet," Oliver told him. "Someone with some form of meta-ability must have taken her. We need to get to watchtower and-"

"We," Hamilton interrupted, indicating to him and Oliver. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"No!" Oliver cried. "You need to patch me up so I can go get Chloe back."

Hamilton took a breath. "Bart, go find the others. Tell them what happened and between you, see if you can work out where Chloe is, or who could possibly want to abduct her. Oliver, you are staying here until I've treated your wounds. You are in no state whatsoever to be attempting a rescue mission. You can join your team later."

Bart nodded and was about to run back out of the door when Oliver stopped him. With a gasp of pain he grabbed the younger man's hand and thrust something into it.

"What's this?" Bart asked, looking at the phone in his hands.

"It's Chloe's. She got a text before she disappeared – maybe it's connected."

Bart nodded and disappeared.

* * *

Courtney let out a low whistle as she dumped her bags on the floor. "This place makes the JS look like it was constructed in the Stone Age," she said in awe as she surveyed the room. "It's been upgraded considerably since I was last here."

AC and Victor shared a look.

"Um, who are you?" AC asked her.

"I'm guessing you must be Courtney Whitmore," said Dinah.

"You would assume right," Carter agreed, gruffly. "And you aren't due for another week," he told the blonde teenager.

"Everyone else is here," Courtney pointed out.

"Yeah, including me," Carter muttered before he stalked off to the coffee machine.

"He loves me really," Courtney told the other three heroes.

"I'm family. I have to," Carter called over. "Doesn't mean I like you."

Victor's mouth dropped open. "You're related to him?"

Courtney laughed. "Not by blood. I'm another member of the Justice Society. It's as good as family."

Carter glared over at her. "Let's get one thing straight. You were not a member of the JS. You were the stepdaughter of a member and _he_ was. _You_ are just a wannabe member."

"Chloe's been taken and Oliver's been shot," Bart announced, appearing in the middle of the room, as if by magic.

"Who the hell are you?" Courtney gasped.

"Who the hell are _you_?" Bart counted.

"Hang on," Dinah cut the two off. "Oliver's been shot?"

Bart nodded before quickly relaying what little he knew.

Dinah inhaled sharply. "I knew that was important," she said aloud, pointing at the screens.

"What is it?" Carter asked.

"We've been having some problems with someone hacking in and cancelling payments for various services, like the power and the construction work in this building," Dinah explained as Victor made his way to the computer and settled down in front of it.

Victor glanced at her. "Someone managed to hack their way in through Chloe's firewalls?"

"No," Dinah quickly replied. "They were hacking into the bank – their protection is nothing like what Chloe can come up with. She set some traps for when this person hacked back in so she could run a trace on it. I'm guessing that," she pointed at the screen. "Is the result of the trace."

Victor's hands flew over the keyboard and seconds later he turned to the group, puzzled. "It's saying that the trace Chloe put on this had led back to a computer, but it won't say who the computer belongs to because it's got a firewall on it that was created by Chloe."

"That makes no sense," said Courtney. "You mean Chloe's been hacking in to her own computers?"

"I doubt it," AC told her. "Chloe wouldn't do that." He looked at Victor. "You reckon you can hack Chloe's firewall?"

Victor just looked up at him and pulled a face before pulling a lead from his arm and sticking it in the USB port. It took a few minutes for him to sit back with a frown. "Well, that's weird."

"What is?" Bart demanded.

"It's clearly been written by Chloe, but it belongs to some guy called Werner Vertigo. Any clues?" he asked, looking at the blank faces of the group.

"It's Chloe's boss," a freshly bandaged Oliver told them from the doorway, his voice strained as he struggled to hide the pain from his face.

"Oliver, you should be in a hospital," Dinah told him.

Oliver glared at the group. "You _really_ think I'm going to lie back and wait for you guys to rescue Chloe? If I can stand, I can help. And I'm going to help."

* * *

Chloe had enjoyed a thoroughly relaxing bath and had slipped into the dress Oliver had bought her, marveling at the softness of the fabric as it clung to her skin. She realized that subconsciously she had been wearing a lot of green in recent days. She'd spent so long trying to convince herself that getting into anything with Oliver was a bad idea, and that he didn't really see her _that_ way anyway, that she hadn't been paying any attention to what her heart was trying to tell her.

The dream had felt so real, that as replayed it, she could remember the feeling of complete panic at the thought of Oliver dying – and not because he was a colleague, or a friend. Rather, it was the feeling of her chest being ripped open and her heart being pulled out. Even if it was a dream, she had awoken knowing one thing was certain. She, Chloe Sullivan, was, completely and utterly, in love with Oliver Queen.

She gave her appearance one last check of approval and left the bathroom, all but skipped through the bedroom to the door. She opened it, finding another path of petals which led her to a rooftop decking area, a candlelit table with two chairs, facing out over the Metropolis landscape.

The snow was still falling softly as she made her way to the table, but underneath the open shelter, surrounded by all kinds of patio heaters, she couldn't feel the cold. The shiver that went through her as she sat down was one of nervous anticipation.

Sensing someone behind her, she turned, a bright smile on her face. The person stepped out of the shadows and moved towards her.

"Werner?" Chloe gasped as the choking thought that Oliver had in fact been shot and was lying somewhere, bleeding to death if he wasn't already, whilst she was stuck with her obviously psychopathic boss.

"Chloe," Werner greeted her, her name rolling off his tongue as he clearly didn't notice the fact the color had drained from her face. "You look beautiful."

* * *

_Hey everyone - so, FF is doing weird things to me today - it's taken out all the editing for this, which is annoying, and it's not letting me reply to reviews! Please tell me I'm not the only one FF hates today? So, thanks to: Stop Dreaming, pompeypearly, modscho, DonStella, Angel :), Madlenita, sparkyCSI, hopelessly Pessimistic, sparklefantastic, CSLUVSCk, ghaziak, and Rebel Magnus!_


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